


Does Your Mother Know

by Dragoneisha



Category: Homestuck, Mamma Mia! (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Mamma Mia! Fusion, F/F, F/M, Human/Monster Romance, Monsters, Multi, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 15:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16043042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragoneisha/pseuds/Dragoneisha
Summary: What better way to outdo your mother than to invite all her college beaus to the release party of her 13th novel, and subtly administer six or so DNA tests?No better way, as far as Rose is concerned.And it's payback for not telling her that her father was some kind of fucking bullshit wizard anyways. This isn't just a nice gesture. Oh, no - this is revenge.





	Does Your Mother Know

“Your mom’s a ho.”

Not the sentence Rose expects to hear after she lit the curtains on fire, but, well, some days she’s got to take things as they come.

“Pardon?” She blinks, twice, and then leans forward a bit on the gaudy bright pink porch chair her mother had sat her on. Rose had, of course, been under the impression this was going to be a scolding. A gentle scolding, since her mother was terrible at actually punishing her – poor woman was besotted with her daughter, a fact Rose took full advantage of at any possible moment – but a scolding nonetheless. 

This is not a scolding. This is a fact about Rose’s mother that she already knew, but is surprised to hear anyway. “I was under that impression, due to your many college trysts and other, similar experiences, which you have on occasion detailed to me -”

Her mother raises a hand to stop her– something which nearly never works– but Rose is caught off-guard and allows it to happen. Mostly in the interest of seeing _where Roxanne Lalonde is going with this particular tangent._ “Rosie.”

“Yes, mother.”

“ _Rude._ I thought y’learned tact after your teacher sent that letter home -”

“You know perfectly well, darling mother, I have never learned -”

“ - about your encounter wi’that poor girl with the tentacle thing -”

“ - a thing in my life, and preferably it’s going to stay that way, but if you could just -”

“ - or when you attacked the poor clown I got you for your birthday when you were eleven, you had been _talking_ about them, he really didn’t deserve that -”

 

“Can we get _back on topic_.” Rose is quick and succinct enough that her mother pauses, and while Roxanne sits befuddled, Rose bulldozes onwards to keep from being interrupted again. “You’ve been alive for fifty-one slutty, slutty years. We get the picture.” Rose’s fingers go tight in her leggings, which puts the nice fabric in danger of running, but this is driving her crazy. Why would her mother open with that? This is past even the passive-aggressive stints they went through in her teenage years. “You’re a -”

“A ho.” Her mother leans back on her own terrible, carefully-painted pink porch chair, a glass nestled between her fingers. No alcohol - none of that in their house anymore - but the aesthetic of it is there. It’s probably orange juice. “In college, anyway. Which is the important part -”

Rose squints her eyes shut. “Because you had me,” she finishes seamlessly, “In college. Going for your second degree.”

“Astrophysics,” her mother embellishes, with a nostalgia most don’t ascribe to astrophysics. “Yeah, Rosie-Posie. Astoto-physics. Second degree, you know, I learned a lot that year. Like about wizards.”

Rose barely keeps her eyes from rolling back into her head as she collapses back in the chair. Even if she’s a big fan of her mother’s work, and has written much for it in the wizard-based adaptive fiction corners of various online collections, she knows neither of them need the ego boost. Too much is too much (Rose had though purple prose was _her_ thing. She weeps for her mother’s editor.) 

“Oh, and I met your dad, lol.”

Rose jackknifes up to a sitting position in seconds. Too eager? Perhaps. But her mother has _never_ mentioned her father, save passing comments - there’s no telling when this will come up again. Rose has to needle her for everything she can… and that’s something she’s very, very good at.

“...My father.” she starts, slowly. The nod Rose receives only spurs her on. “In college.” She knew that already, but she wants it verified, because of course she was never told, why would she be told about things like her father, ridiculous. A silly thought. But all roads lead to Rome, as it were; she was right all along. “Was he also an astrophysics major? Or was all that solely your own pursuit of a sparse and esoteric major without being subordinate to someone else’s hiring practices? You had to know NASA wasn’t going to be around for long, not with how the government handles money. Unless you were going into some kind of paramilitary space branch of the US Military, you were unlikely to have a job you'd be satisfied in. Especially as a woman.”

Her mother sighs, and it's long and loud enough to be a response on its own. She doesn't leave it there. “Loooook, Rosie.” Her whine is almost long enough to be worthy of a sentence on its own. “We are not talking about my - _very good_ \- decision t’be an astrophysisishist. We are talking about your father. Who, by the way, was probably a majjyk-man.”

“What about my father?” Rose presses. “What major was he in? What was his _name_?” Too desperate. She resolves to cut back. “Was he even a college student, or did you show up at office hours for better grades?”

Rose’s mother almost hisses at her and leans in, pointing a finger. “Watch it.” She lifts and then shakes that finger, executing the maneuver perfectly despite her longtime-drinking-induced wobbliness. “I had fantasmic grades, kiddo. I woulda gone to teach’s office because I wanted to. But even if I was that much of a ho - which I wasn't - I got standards, li’l lady.” A wink, but Rose keeps her gaze on the other eye, which blinks closed a second after the other one. 

“So,” her mother continues, while the wind whistles through the pines and Rose Lalonde nearly implodes with annoyance, face utterly impassive, “here’s the thiiing, sting.”

Sting. Her mother has resorted to calling her ‘sting’ in order to rhyme, badly, because whatever she’s about to say is difficult for her. Rose is familiar with this tactic, having used it herself (without the bad rhymes; her rhymes are, as Dave might say, ‘fire’,) but it’s still another roadblock in the way of finding out what she wants. True, Rose doesn’t really care much about her father, because he never cared for her, but she still wants to know. She wants to have that information, perhaps for use at a later date. Filed away in a cabinet labeled “blackmail”, or maybe even under “family secrets” - either way, the first half of the alphabet. Nothing after “M”, for “Mother’s trysts”. Maybe another “f” for “Father, secret”.

“The curtain thing is to be blamed entirely on your daddy’s side of the family.”

Wait, they’re back to curtains. Why are they back to curtains. 

“You ig-a-noooored me when I said it before, babycakes. Told you straight-up that bish was majjyk-infused, but you just tuned me right out 'cause you wanted to keep pestering me about _other shit_. Rosie. Baby."

Rose takes a moment to try and comprehend while her mother sips her drink and takes a deep breath.

She fails to.

"Not only did I bone down on the majjyks, you being twenty-one means it's wakin' up. Sorry, babycakes. I shoulda told you before, I just... well... I really, _really_ didn't want to." She laughs, and Rose in her stunned stupor can pick out every nervous note. "Lol." 

Of course she’d laugh and then waste her time _saying_ the word “lol” like she’s writing shitty graffiti on a bathroom stall in perfect pink Sharpie. Of course she’d wait until Rose was a fully-fledged, drive a car, vote in elections, buy alcohol adult before telling her anything of substance about her lineage. Of course she fucked a fucking wizard.

"What the fuck, Mom?"

**Author's Note:**

> mamma mia au...................


End file.
